Friends With Benefits
by Peter Simons
Summary: T'Pol looks for friendship -- for scientific reasons, of course. But when she tries to befriend the object of her desire, Commander Charles Tucker, things evolve faster than she would have thought.


**Friends With Benefits**

Summary: T'Pol looks for friendship — for scientific reasons, of course. She's oblivious to the fact, she already had it. As she finds out, things evolve … There is _lots_ of pathos and drama until then, though, because the Universe is a sinister place for the Science Officer and the Chief Engineer of the ENTERPRISE. This story could have happened around the events of PROVING GROUND. Or it could be an alternate version of HARBINGER, with major angst instead of jealousy.

********

She had lived among Humans for more than two years now, but still she didn't seem to understand them at all. The reason was obvious: Humans weren't guided by logic alone, so analyzing them by logic alone was bound to give incomplete results. There was just no way their irrational behavior could be described in mathematical terms.

T'Pol actually inhaled to sigh, but quickly recovered. »_This is all wrong._« she thought, focusing on the problem at hand again. She had to concentrate, re-think her approach. Perhaps trying to befriend the Captain was a mistake in the first place? She thought, she had grown a mutual understanding with Captain Archer. She definitely respected him. But did he respect her? It was hard to tell; his behavior was inconsistent, at best, in the last few months. Clearly the shock of the Xindi attack was affecting Captain Archer deeply, so some irrationality had to be expected. But still she hadn't really managed to gain insight into his thought process. They remained too far away from each other to reach the level of trust, which was required for the Human to share personal information with her — an alien. She had not managed to become his »friend«, in human terms.

What if she tried to befriend someone else? Maybe other Humans were more suitable than Captain Archer — who still openly resented Vulcans. Human females were unlikely candidates for a friendship with her, so much she had figured out already. The males found her Vulcan physique attractive, so there was a certain level of jealousy from other women towards her. She remembered well, how difficult even only working with Ensign Sato was in the beginning. Befriending the males, though, was a delicate thing to do as well, for the very same reason.

One more time T'Pol made an effort to focus. Commander Tucker had repeatedly shown signs of appreciation of her, on a personal and a professional level. She perceived most of their arguments as the Human ritual called »friendly banter«, a less efficient variant of vocal communication, which was nonetheless regarded as being more intimate. She understood this ritual. By consciously wasting time to talk to each other, Humans expressed sympathy. And by constantly expressing sympathy, friendships were formed. And friends would then speak about personal matters, which meant, that she would finally be able to gain insight into how humans thought, how they combined emotions and logic to make decisions the way they did.

T'Pol understood the social benefit of Human friendships too. She was one of only two aliens on a spaceship full of Humans … and even though it should not, the sense of isolation was causing her distress, making her a less efficient Science Officer. She wished she would be stronger, more disciplined. But she was not. Her self-control had been challenged to her limits again, and again, and again ever since they had entered the Expanse. Commander Tucker had expressed sympathy towards her, even affection, and he had initiated it all of the times. Why not befriend him?

Why not?

»Because something inside me _wants_ to, that is why not.« T'Pol was horrified to realize she had spoken that out loud! She was beginning to talk to herself! And what words she had spoken … suddenly the truth hit her. She was reacting emotional in the presence of Commander Tucker. She was reacting emotional when THINKING about Commander Tucker!

She looked into the flame of her meditation candle and calmed her breathing. Commander Tucker would arrive in precisely 38.3 minutes at her quarters for this evening's neuro-pressure treatment. If he was on time, that is. By then she would know what to do.

********

»Trip?« Captain Archer called out into a mess of technical equipment with his Chief Engineer caught somewhere in the middle. »I know you're there, I can see your feet.« »Damn.« came the reply. »Then I guess there's no point in hiding, Capt'n.« Archer chuckled. He was relieved to find his friend in a good mood for a change.

»It's nice to see you in a good mood for a change, Capt'n.« Trip said the same moment. Archer looked at him dumbfounded, then started to laugh. »That's what I just thought about you.« he brought out, gasping for breath. Trip grinned wide, cherishing the care-free moment, so rare had they become lately.

Archer sat down on an unidentifiable piece of equipment, which had been damaged in one of the too many recent attacks on the ship. »You know, Trip, when this is all over, when these Xindi have been … stopped, we need to go on a long vacation.«

»Yeah, sure Capt'n, I know your long vacations. That means what in real time? Two days?«

Archer laughed again, then said with a grin: »No, this time I mean it. A week at least, I guarantee it.«

Both men sat there for a moment, each lingering in his own thoughts, and the good mood was gone as quickly as it came. »Who knows … maybe we're lying on a beach in three weeks already?« Trip tried weakly. They both knew that wouldn't happen for the next 6 months, even _if_ everything went extremely well for them. They had gathered lots of information about the Xindi, but they still had no real clue as to where the weapon was built nor who was building it and why.

Archer got up and tried to look cheerful. »Yeah, who knows … Well, anyway, I came down to tell you to stop working immediately and to get some sleep already. You can't possibly survive working 20 hours a day for weeks.«

»Look, who's talking.« Tucker said under his breath while trying to untangle himself from a mess of sensor cables. He hated the fact Engineering looked like this, but there was just no time for anything that wasn't really, _really_ important. Like a warp core breach, for example.

Archer raised his hand to avoid any further discussion. »Commander, as your friend and your Captain, I mean it. You do not look good. You need to _sleep_ or you'll start falling unconscious at random times on the bridge. I can't have that. I'll retire in a minute as well. Let's call this a night, okay?«

Tucker let a deep sigh then raised his hands in mock frustration, but his voice betrayed how exhausted he was. »Alright, alright. I'll have to go anyway. I need to shower before meeting T'Pol for neuro-pressure or _she_ will fall unconscious at random times during the session.«

Archer chuckled, glad their talking ended on a happy note. »As long as your smell doesn't knock her out on duty, that's entirely between the two of you.« He grinned wide, waiting for Trip's outraged »What's that supposed ta mean?« but the engineer didn't take the bait. He had endured so much teasing because of the neuro-pressure sessions with T'Pol, it barely even registered anymore.

********

»_The problem must be solved logically._« T'Pol insisted in her mind like a mantra. She could not let her emotions affect her work. She could not let her emotions affect her decisions. What she _wanted_ was irrelevant. Of relevance was only making proper _progress_ in understanding Humans, or the opportunity for unique scientific research was lost. She should not even be considering this »issue«! Commander Tucker was trustworthy. He had signaled sympathy. He was exceptionally bright, resourceful and completely and utterly illogical. Gaining a better understanding of him would bring her great lengths towards understanding Humans as a whole. And this would simply _not_ affect her personally, because she was in control of her emotions.

She had made her decision.

********

Commander Tucker was getting dressed, changing into civilian clothes after showering. The sessions with T'Pol had become less awkward and less formal over time, there was really no need to wear an uniform. »Or any clothes at all.« he said to himself, chuckling. The more advanced postures of Vulcan neuro-pressure were indeed »profoundly intimate«, as T'Pol put it. With any women but T'Pol, it would have been impossible to do without an incredible mess. There was just no way a man and a women could touch each other like that without sexual co-notations. But T'Pol had an air of all-business professionalism that made any serious thought about »more« appear outlandish.

Not that his body cared. But if T'Pol had noticed his arousal, she sure didn't acknowledge it. For her, it was probably just one of his stupid emotional reactions, which he couldn't help having because he was basically still an ape or some thing.

»Whatever.« he said out loud, heading for her quarters — two minutes late, just so to annoy her.

********

»You are 2.37 minutes late, Commander.«

»I'm sorry, T'Pol.« Tucker muttered, but his grin made it obvious he didn't take the matter seriously. T'Pol didn't know how to react, so she just calmly moved out of the way, letting him into her quarters. Without further thought, Tucker entered the room and sat down on one of the pillows, which T'Pol had already arranged for the session.

T'Pol's mind barely registered irritation before she forced the thought away. She lightened the meditation candles and dimmed the lights to set a peaceful and calm atmosphere for the neuro-pressure session. Then she walked over to Commander Tucker, who was already taking off his shirt. T'Pol sat down opposite of him, not speaking a word, grateful for the moment of silence to gather her thoughts. When Tucker had settled down and she had his attention, she finally said: »Commander, may I ask you a personal question?«

The Commander straightened slightly. »Of course.« he said evenly, but his eyes blinked with curiosity, causing T'Pol to look straight into them. Commander Tucker's eyes always had a strange effect on Subcommander T'Pol. They were decidedly _alien_. Subtly different from a Vulcan's eyes, so much more expressive. Intriguing.

»I have noticed you always arrive on time for duty. You are a reliable officer.« The commander groaned as she spoke, but she ignored it. »But you seem never to arrive on time for our neuro-pressure appointments. I don't understand why your behavioral patterns change in this case?«

»T'Pol, this is your personal question?«

»Yes.«

»Let me think about it for a moment.«

T'Pol said nothing but waited calmly.

»_Alright._« Tucker thought, »_This isn't happening. I am imagining it._«

»Look, I am sorry. I really am.«

»There is no need to apologize, Commander. I'm am just curious to understand your behavior.«

»Uh … you know, I don't think I can really explain it. I guess, I didn't think it was so important.«

»You mean, our appointment is not important?«

»No! That is not what I said.« Tucker interjected quickly, not liking how this discussion was going. »T'Pol, can we … uh … talk about something else? Let's just forget it, okay? I'll be on time from now on. I promise.«

»I apologize, Commander.« the Vulcan said evenly, getting up while motioning Tucker to lay down on his chest for the first posture. He complied with recognizable haste, looking away from her. T'Pol took a moment to brace herself. This had all gone terribly wrong. Again. He wouldn't even answer the most mundane personal question. He even got angry. She must have misread all signs. She had to question her most basic understanding of Human culture. Apparently, he wasn't interested in a friendship with her at all. When she touched the pressure points on his shoulders, she found the Commander to be very tense.

********

Charles Tucker III was fuming. »_You are an idiot, Trip._« he chided himself. »_Why __are_ you even late all the time? Because you want to irritate her. You taunt her. You want to get a rise out of her. There is no logic at all. How do you explain that?«

He felt her fingers touch the K'Hara points on both sides of his spine delicately, then she started to gradually apply more pressure. It never ceased to amaze him how much strength T'Pol really had. With three fingers she could pin him down on the floor, if she wanted to. In a way she did, because he was unable to move, as if enthralled by some spell of hers. She even looked like an Elf in the semi-darkness of the room, with her pointed ears. He sighed and let the wave of relaxation wash over him as the Vulcan released the pressure points.

********

T'Pol tried to concentrate on applying the neuro-pressure as accurately as possible, but she couldn't focus. Of course she had known there was a chance of rejection. Friendships were based on emotions, so it should not come as a surprise that Commander Tucker — who was particularly emotional — would consider her an inadequate friend. It was a shock nonetheless. Something stirred inside her. She had no name for it, but it was unsettling.

When Commander Tucker shifted his position to look at her, T'Pol realized she been distracted for several moments. »I apologize, Commander.« she said softly, moving to resume the treatment.

»T'Pol …« Commander Tucker began. He looked down for a second, then looked up at her again. His voice was different from usual, when he spoke to her now. »I realize I have been less than a gentlemen. Being late, sniping at you during arguments … you know what I mean. I sincerely apologize. I really appreciate you helping me here and I didn't mean to hurt you.«

»_Hurt._« it shot through T'Pol's head. »_That's the sensation I have been experiencing._« She pondered that for a moment. What was worse: the sensation or the fact that she _had_ experienced it? Was she losing control?

»There really is no need to apologize, Commander.« she said more for her own benefit than for his, struggling to remain calm in the turmoil this emotion had set loose.

********

Charles Tucker firmly expected to be rebuked, to be told she would not experience these emotions he was talking about. But something about T'Pol was different tonight. She looked sad. Tucker's thoughts stood still for a moment as he realized how outrageous it was for T'Pol to _look_ _sad_. The expression on her face was ever so subtle, but it was there. She drifted in thoughts and her eyes were unfocused. He was frightened the Vulcan was ill.

He sat up slowly, facing her, but she didn't register him. He spoke to her as gently as he could: »Are you alright, T'Pol? Is something wrong?«

********

The Vulcan snapped to attention. T'Pol realized her weakness and blushed so hard, her face turned green all the way down to the neck. She fought for control and almost fainted. Tucker reached for her instantly, holding her by the shoulders, supporting her. »Shall I call Doctor Phlox?« he asked, a sense of urgency in his voice. He was worried about her.

»No, that is not necessary.« she whispered, focusing on the sensation of his touch. It was oddly comforting. His body language was very different from the way he usually carried himself around her. He had moved close, holding her gently, as if he was afraid to damage her. Very different from the clinical and controlled touches during neuro-pressure. He looked at her with intensity. She was the center of his attention at this moment.

T'Pol straightened herself, regaining some of her composture. »Commander, our recent experiences have been very demanding of my … self-control. I have come to realize how much I rely on our neuro-pressure sessions as a supplement to my meditation.« She hesitated a moment. »As a replacement for meditation, occasionally.« Because she couldn't focus. »So our appointments are important to _me_.«

********

»_Charles Tucker_«, Trip thought of himself, »_you are one hell of an asshole._« He had _known_ T'Pol was in an incredibly difficult situation here on ENTERPRISE. She _had_ to be sick and tired, just like everybody else of the crew. Nobody could shake off the kind of pressure they were under. But she didn't make a display of it, like he did.

His little sister was dead and he just didn't know how to deal with it. Anger seemed to help at first. Anger at the Xindi, anger at T'Pol, and most of all anger at himself. But flaming anger had turned into a resigned bitterness. It had sucked all life out of him, he knew it. He had become too self-absorbed to even notice he was hurting his friends with his behavior. The problem was not him being late, the problem was that he had never _bothered_ to even think about T'Pol. About how fragile _her_ life must be.

He looked down in shame and regret.

********

She had done it! She had spoken her mind, truthfully, openly. It was an immense gesture. He had seen her weakness. She had admitted depending on him. Relying on him. The moment was deeply personal. He seemed to consider her offer of friendship. He drifted. She felt his hold on her shoulders weaken. Then he broke the eye contact and looked away. Her heart stopped beating. He had rejected her again.

********

In his head, Tucker practically yelled at himself: »_Then stop pitying yourself right now and start to __care_, god-dammit.« He looked up at the Vulcan, but upon seeing the expression on her face, he had to look back down right again. He just couldn't bear seeing her like this.

When he forced his gaze back up, T'Pol was visibly shaken. He reacted the only way he knew: instinctively. He reached out to her face with his right hand, caressing her cheekbone tenderly, then he took her cheek in his hand, noticing how small her face seemed next to it, and carefully pulled her towards him. He moved his body instinctively closer to her, offering a place for her to rest. He felt T'Pol lean into his hand, seeking for support, as he slowly guided her brow onto his shoulder. He leaned his head in to touch hers, then put his left arm around her, holding her.

Suddenly he felt her body stiffen in his arms. Her muscles tensed and she became rigid. The reaction was almost violent. For a second he feared, she would now proceed to throw him across the room.

********

Comfort. She needed comfort. The painful stirring inside her was replaced by something different as he held her like that. She hadn't really noticed how they had moved into this intimate position. She hadn't cared. She needed comfort.

T'Pol stiffened in his arms as the alarm sirens went off in her mind. She was not behaving like a Vulcan should. Not at all. Her emotions had control of _her_.

»_There is no other way._« was the last conscious thought Subcommander T'Pol had. She would not survive without help. Were he to withdraw his comfort now, she would just go insane. She placed her fingers over the contact points in his face. Technically, she knew, this could be considered a violation. She shouldn't be touching his mind without explaining the implications to him carefully and asserting his consent. But he might reject her — and she would not survive it. T'Pol knew Humans were willing to sacrifice themselves for their friends. He would sacrifice himself for her. He would bear her emotions for one night. For her. There was no other way.

********

When T'Pol's mind touched his, the Chief Engineer's eyes flew wide open. Emotions washed over him with an intensity Charles Tucker had not known before. They were magnified, super-concentrated emotions, hitting him in rapid succession, making his head spin. They were hers.

Then came the memories. Images flashed through his mind, accompanied by a disturbing feeling of helplessness and isolation. He experienced the nightmares she had after her ordeal on the Vulcan ship SELEYA. Then he experienced the horror of waking up from those dreams. He felt her desperate need for balance. He knew she was exhausted beyond any description. He knew tonight she depended on him to help her. And he realized he would do anything for her. She was precious to him.

********

T'Pol felt his barriers fall down. His mind embraced her, he willingly accepted her demons and her pain. He accepted _her_. The sensation was mesmerizing. She fell completely into him, her body along with her mind. She knew he would catch her.

********

The images in his mind returned with force, but their nature had changed. There was no longer fear, but there was need. Desire. Hunger. It consumed him. He felt her pull his face close to her with her delicate arms, but her power was irresistible. He felt his heart race and his breathing was ragged. All he knew was that he needed her too. Her desire made him feel _alive_ again and his mind returned it eagerly. He was ravenous for being close to her.

The impressions in his mind increased in intensity to an almost unbearable level. He experienced searing flashes of sensation: Her breath on his face … her exotic alien smell … her naked skin touching his … her eyes … searching for him. After an eternity of torture, his mouth found hers and she devoured his kiss.

********

No warp core breach could separate them now. All that mattered was _them_, as they clung to each other. Her touch was maddeningly wonderful. She writhed in his kiss as his tongue forced his will onto her. She was addicted to his taste. He felt her hips move against his. Her hands roamed over his chest helplessly, finding no place to stay in the turmoil. In a sudden movement, he clutched her face with both hands, pushed her to the side, and rolled on top of her. She did not resist but threw her arms up over her head, arching her back sensuously, inviting him to explore her.

Then there was no more conscious thought. They were no more than creatures trying to still an insatiable hunger for each other.

********

T'Pol awoke into a world of confusion. Without opening her eyes, she tried to asses her situation. Her body felt raw. Her mind was raw as well. It was the strangest sensation. She could tell her nervous system had been over-strained severely. She was incapable of opening her eyes, afraid of the sensory onslaught this would mean. She was weak.

When she smelled him, she knew immediately where she was. She was in her bunk, flung over the naked body of Commander Tucker. She _had_ to look at him, so she finally opened her eyes. The meditation candles were still burning. She hadn't slept long. Memories came to her and she lingered in them, cherished them. There was calm. For the first time in months, there was peace.

Finally she looked at him. He was sleeping peacefully under her body and he looked content, almost serene. She had not seen this expression on his face for _so_ long, that it moved her profoundly.

She could not recall their mating in much detail. The memories were feverishly unreal. But she remembered distinct moments in brilliant clarity. Her fingers carefully traced a vicious bite mark on his collarbone. She remembered giving him that. He had teased her body so mercilessly, she had known nothing else to do but to bite down hard on his shoulder in frustration. She remembered the stirring taste of his red blood … she could still taste it. She shuddered.

There should be panic, she knew. She should be ashamed of herself for losing control. But she wasn't. If such a thing was possible for a Vulcan, then she was glowing. She had not felt like this since she was a very small child. She was cared for and it delighted her. She would soon pick up the shattered remains of her control and carefully reassemble it. But not now.

She inhaled his scent deeply while her head sunk down to his chest. She was back asleep within seconds.

********

When Charles Tucker awoke, he panicked for a second until he realized T'Pol was still there. He thanked all the gods in the Universe for not waking up alone. He marveled at the sight of T'Pol. She lay carelessly sprawled over his chest, breathing calmly. She looked like an angel. Her right hand had reached to his shoulder, so that her fingers rested tenderly on a violet bruise on his collarbone. His face beamed with pride as he saw how possessive of him she looked.

His mind struggled to comprehend the significance of the past hours. The intimacy of their love-making was frightening. He had seen her mind. He had experienced her pleasure as well as his own, until it all intertwined into one searing sensation that they both were afraid to unleash. The wave had almost swept them away. But they had survived and were reborn. Something had changed in this moment.

The loss of his sister had almost taken his life away. Now T'Pol had given it back to him. And he would love her for the rest of his life, he knew.

He was careful not to move, afraid to wake her up. What would she say when she woke up? Would she thank him for »remedying her condition« and send him off to his own quarters? Would she bury all what had been deep within her, where he could never reach it again? Would he ever reach _her_ again?

He had to accept it. He understood now, how her sanity depended on control. Emotions like his were dangerous for her. She could not indulge them. She had to eliminate those emotions from her mind. And she would break his heart in the process.

Trip had drifted in bittersweet thoughts when he heard T'Pol make an inarticulate noise in her sleep. He could see her closed eyes move rapidly, then she winced. Her left hand reached towards his face. Her mind sought for him, he could feel it. Her fingers found the contact points on his face and warmth flooded into him, drowning out all fears and doubts.

T'Pol was with him in this moment. Nothing else mattered.

**Epilogue**

Subcommander T'Pol couldn't focus. She missed the presence of Commander Tucker. 14 hours ago, they had parted in the morning, to go on duty. She had been light-headed the whole day, but in an oddly pleasurable way. She felt serene. The pressure of work, the smells, the tension — all this hadn't affected her the way it did until the day before. She was balanced, though she did not have complete control of her emotions. At random times on the bridge, she could smell the Commander, even though he wasn't there. She knew she was imagining it, but it was real to her for all practical purposes. At one time, the rush washing over her because of it had threatened to knock her unconscious.

She had wanted to learn more about Humans and their emotions. She had gotten what she wanted. Commander Tucker had given her love. He had shown her the very essence of Humanity. She knew she couldn't _possibly_ explain this concept to another Vulcan. There were no words for it. It had to be experienced.

The intense emotion had demolished her self-control completely, but in a constructive way. The overwhelming flood of pleasurable emotions countered those truly horrible emotions, which would drive her mad. The bliss of their union had purged her. It was not unlike meditation. She was certain both forms of emotional purging could coexist. She would have to verify this hypothesis. But to do so, she needed Commander Tucker.

She wondered whether the Commander would be interested in performing this sacred ritual with her again. Contemporary Human literature suggested, that such encounters often lead to a life-long companionship. But it also suggested that Human males were driven by a desire for conquest and quickly lost interest in the female after they had intercourse. She could not seriously expect him to commit himself to her, could she? What Human females could give him, she could not give.

She felt her balance slip away under her. She hadn't even thought of this before! Would he provide further love for her? What would she do if he withheld his affection?

»_No._« she decided. It would be wildly unethical for him to discontinue loving her. Now that she was so dependent on it, the suffering would significantly influence her ability to function as an officer on this ship. The Captain would not allow it. It would be just WRONG. She fought down the rising panic in her.

T'Pol almost leaped to the door when a soft chime indicated she had a visitor. She knew who it was. She just _knew_.

THE END


End file.
